Some paintings begin with a sketch, others with a fleeting moment. This one began with a photograph taken in the Northern Territory sixteen years ago.
I had painted the same scene several years ago, but recently I felt drawn back to it. Looking at the photograph again, I realised there was an opportunity to explore something I had not attempted in the earlier version: a luminous double rainbow stretching across the sky.
Rainbows are fascinating subjects for painters because they are not physical objects. They are simply light interacting with water droplets suspended in the atmosphere. Their beauty comes from their transparency, making them surprisingly difficult to paint convincingly.
A rainbow forms when sunlight enters a raindrop, bends (refracts), reflects internally, and then exits the droplet. This process separates white sunlight into the familiar spectrum of colours. A double rainbow occurs when the light undergoes a second internal reflection before leaving the droplet. The result is a fainter outer rainbow with its colours reversed. Between the two rainbows is a darker band of sky known as Alexander's Band, a subtle but important feature that helps create the illusion of realism.
Capturing these effects required patience. Rather than painting the rainbow directly in one session, I built it gradually through multiple transparent glazes. Each layer adjusted the values of both the rainbow and the surrounding sky, allowing the colours to appear luminous and integrated into the atmosphere rather than sitting on top of the painting.
The work was painted on a 60 × 45 cm canvas panel with multiple layers of acrylic ground. I began with a transparent red oxide imprimatura to establish the major value relationships before moving into a low-chroma block-in. Keeping the initial colours subdued allowed me to control the overall harmony of the painting and reserve the brightest notes for the final stages.
The foreground features three cattle, including two Brahman cattle. These animals are iconic in many parts of northern Australia and are particularly well adapted to the harsh climate. Their calm presence provides a visual anchor within the composition, balancing the dramatic atmospheric effects overhead.
As the painting progressed, I focused on strengthening the relationship between light and shadow throughout the landscape. The large gum tree became an important structural element, framing the scene and leading the eye towards the river and the rainbow beyond. Textured impasto passages were used selectively in the foreground, while the sky and rainbows were developed through softer glazing techniques.
One of the aspects I enjoy most about landscape painting is the challenge of translating fleeting natural phenomena into permanent form. A rainbow may only exist for a few minutes, yet through paint it can be preserved and experienced again and again.

Every painting begins with a moment — a quiet connection between the artist and the world around them. A few months ago, on an early winter afternoon, I set up my easel on the edge of the escarpment overlooking one of Australia’s most iconic landmarks: the Three Sisters in Katoomba.
Painting en plein air — directly from life and on location — is a practice that I have always valued deeply. It allows me to respond to the ever-changing light, the movement of clouds, and the atmosphere that can never quite be captured from a photograph. The Blue Mountains that day were bathed in cool winter light; the air was crisp, and the rock formations glowed in subtle tones of ochre and violet as the sun drifted lower in the sky. I worked quickly, aiming to capture not only the physical scene but also the quiet grandeur and serenity that surrounded me.
What began as a simple study of light and form in nature soon took on a journey I could never have anticipated. A few weeks ago, this small plein air painting of the Three Sisters was purchased by Aid to the Church in Need (ACN) Australia) to be presented as a gift to His Holiness Pope Leo during a private audience at the Vatican.
The thought that a painting created in the peaceful stillness of the Australian bush would travel across the world and be offered as a gesture of goodwill and faith is profoundly humbling. It serves as a reminder that art can connect people across vast distances.
The Three Sisters themselves are steeped in stories — from the ancient Aboriginal legends that tell of their creation, to the millions of visitors who visit this region each year. In this case, they have become part of yet another story: one of art, nature, and humanity united through a simple act of giving.
As artists, we never fully know where our work will go or what meaning it might hold for others. This experience has reaffirmed for me that painting is not merely about producing an image but about creating something that carries a piece of our shared world — a bridge between the place it was born and the hearts it will eventually touch.

In the realm of still-life painting, every object has a story to tell, and this piece is no exception. The vibrant orange, the rustic mortar and pestle, and the delicate eggshells come together to create a scene that feels both inviting and rich with texture.

Let’s explore the elements that make this artwork so captivating. The mortar, with its rough surface, contrasts beautifully with the smoothness of the orange. This juxtaposition not only draws the eye but also invites you to explore the tactile qualities of each object. The cinnamon sticks, laid casually beside the mortar, add a hint of warmth and spice, evoking a sense of comfort and nostalgia.

The colour palette is another standout feature. The warm oranges and browns create a cosy atmosphere, reminiscent of a sunlit kitchen. It’s a reminder of the simple pleasures in life—perhaps a freshly baked cake or a warm cup of spiced tea. The way light interacts with the surface of the orange and the mortar adds depth, making the scene feel almost three-dimensional.

As an artist, I find inspiration in the everyday. This composition reflects the beauty found in ordinary objects, encouraging us to appreciate the small details that often go unnoticed. Each brushstroke is a celebration of texture and form, inviting you to pause and savour the moment.
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So, the next time you find yourself in the kitchen, take a moment to appreciate the beauty around you. Whether it’s the vibrant colours of fresh produce or the rustic charm of your cooking tools, there’s art in every corner. Let this piece remind you to embrace the ordinary and find joy in the simple things.

This painting can be found in the Still Life section. 

I want to share my latest oil painting, "Tranquil Waters," which I recently completed using the indirect method of painting. This piece draws its inspiration directly from my camping trips, capturing the serene moments of solitude by the river.

The indirect method, also known as the layered approach, involves building up the painting in stages. I began with a detailed underpainting in monochromatic tones to establish the composition and values. Gradually, I added layers of glaze, each one deepening the colour and enhancing the light effects, giving the painting its rich texture and depth. This technique allowed me to capture the subtle play of light on the water and the warmth of the campfire, bringing to life the peaceful ambiance of a morning by the river.

"Tranquil Waters" is not just a painting; it's a reflection of my experiences in nature, where time slows down, and the world becomes a canvas of tranquillity. I hope this piece resonates with viewers, taking them on a visual journey to the calm riverside, much like my own camping escapes.

A few weeks ago, I spent several days travelling through the breathtaking alpine region of Australia. We arrived at a beautiful property near the Snowy River, where we camped and enjoyed some much-needed relaxation. The weather was pleasant, though the nights were notably cold, adding a crispness to the experience.

As always, I kept my eyes open for the perfect opportunity to capture the scenery in a painting. When I arrive at a new location, I don’t immediately start painting the first view I come across. Instead, I like to immerse myself in the environment—observing, taking it all in, and waiting for the moment or scene that truly resonates with me. What inspires me most is the interplay of light, particularly the way it transforms the landscape as the day progresses.

On this trip, I found an ideal vantage point next to the river. From there, I could see a distant mountain bathed in the warm, golden light of the late afternoon, with cool shadows filling the foreground. The scene had all the elements that make a painting captivating: a striking contrast between light and dark, as well as the harmony of cool and warm colours. Fortunately, the weather was kind, allowing me to follow through with my plan to paint en plein air.

When painting outdoors, I prefer to keep my setup simple and efficient. For this trip, I brought along my trusty pochade box, which is compact yet versatile. It features a small glass palette and can store up to two wet canvases—perfect for painting on location. My colour palette remains consistent for such outings: a double primary palette, consisting of both cool and warm versions of each primary colour. This approach gives me the flexibility to mix a broad range of colours and achieve the nuances I seek in my work.
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Painting outdoors is always a rewarding experience. It allows me to connect deeply with the landscape, capturing not just its visual beauty but also the atmosphere and emotions of the moment.